


Cling to You

by Doctorinblue



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, silly fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-20 04:40:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2415320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctorinblue/pseuds/Doctorinblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silly fics, with the Doctor/Donna. Some romance, and some friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Doctor had his feet resting against the grating- one of them tapping in time with the music that floated around the console room. Donna glanced at his feet, and slowly approached, holding two mugs of tea.

The Doctor was humming along, oblivious to her presence as he usually was when he was working on the TARDIS. She wouldn't have bothered him at all, if it wasn't the fact that she was bored- simple as that. Reading didn't hold any appeal today, and she had already wandered the TARDIS for some time, before she decided to bribe him with tea.

With any luck, he'd take her somewhere. She didn't even think she'd mind another swampy mess, or hours in the rain today.

"Doctor?" she called out, over the music. "I brought tea."

She had also brought a banana, in case he needed extra motivation, but she thought it was best to start low, and work her way up.

She heard a grunt, and then a zapping noise, followed by his feet quickly being withdrawn. She didn't know the exact translation of the next words that spewed from his mouth, but the tone was enough for her to understand their meaning.

She winced for him, as he appeared, shaking his hand. She blinked, and the feeling of guilt at causing him pain faded rapidly.

His hair was sticking up more than normal, trying to reach for the ceiling of the TARDIS with impressive tenacity.

"You caused me to get shocked," the Doctor whined.

"Sorry," Donna said, ,though she couldn't stop the grin. "Come on, tea...and a banana."

He brightened nearly at once, the zap seemingly forgotten, though his hair suggested there was no forgetting.

She sat the mugs on the jump seat, reaching over to help pull him from the grating, when she quickly yanked her hands back.

He'd shared his static with her, it seemed. She huffed, looking him over.

"Sorry," he said, but he was beaming at her. "I know I can be a bit shocking."

She shook her head, grabbing his mug and pushing it off to him. He took it happily, turning and flopping down on the seat, before jumping back up.

"Ow!" he said, pouting and instead holding still, away from anything, while he gulped down the tea.

"Is that going to go away?" she asked, motioning to him, sipping her tea.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "I'm sure...at some point. Actually, I'll just pop off down the hall, and see if I can speed it along."

"Want some help?" she asked, smiling at him.

"No!" he said, quickly, shaking his head. "No...I mean, I'm fine, thanks. Won't take a moment, and we can...go."

He sat the mug down carefully, and hurried off. From the hall she heard another loud 'ow!' and she rose, gathering up the dishes.

Donna decided to give him a few minutes, as she wasn't entirely sure what his plan to rid himself of his charge would involve, and then she'd try to find him.

She washed up the dishes, lingering in the kitchen, waiting for him to come to her instead of the other way around.

She heard feet shuffling, and the repeated sighing of someone who was completely fed up with their current situation.

The Doctor appeared and as much as she wanted to be sympathetic to him, she couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. He was covered in balloons. The brightest colors seemed to be clinging to his dark hair, and he kept batting one away from his face, to ensure he was still able to glare at her.

"This isn't funny," he said, batting at the deep purple balloon. "Don't just stand there, come help me."

She nodded, sniffing softly, and coming over. Every other step a giggle slipped to her lips, and she couldn't contain them all.

He'd bat and glare, but otherwise remained oddly silent for him. She started to pull the balloons away from him, pushing them off into the hall so they didn't quickly return to his side.

After the third balloon, and the third shock, she huffed.

"Why do you even have this many balloons?" she asked. "Do you have a whole room of them?"

"A room, Donna," he said, trying to help her, as the balloon slid back over to him. "Don't be silly." He looked her over, and then smiled slightly. "At least two or three of them."

"Martians," she muttered, going back to working on him.

He ignored her, wisely, and went back to trying to rid himself of the seemingly never-ending attachments.

"Ow!" She said. "Stopped shocking me, Spaceman!"

He huffed loudly, rolling his eyes.

"I can't help it, you know?" he said. "I'm a bit distracted by all these balloons."

She glared, before returning to work.

"Alright," she said. "I give. Why do you have rooms of balloons? Like to hold parties for yourself? Roll around in them when no one is looking? Go on, tell me, I won't judge."

He looked her over.

"No," he said, simply, as she pulled off the last balloon.

"Well, what then?" she asked, leaning against the door frame.

"I..." he said, hesitating, and attempting to push his hair down. She watched as it slowly rose again, and she waited. "For...birthdays?"

"Your birthday is coming up?" she asked. "Why didn't you tell me."

He blinked, surprise filling his features.

"Not mine, Donna," he said, in a gentle tone that made her breath seem to catch. "Yours."

She started to shake her head, before realizing. If she'd been back on Earth, it would be tomorrow. With everything that had happened, she had simple lost track of time. It wasn't as it had mattered all that much back then, in that life.

Any celebration, was planned, and executed by her own hand.

She cleared her throat, looking away.

"Don't do that, Donna," he said, in that same gentle tone. "We're supposed to be celebrating."

"Why?" she asked, unsure of how to feel. She hadn't bothered to remember, why should he?

He looked at her for a moment, his face so serious she could forget the crazy hair and the normally wild eyes. Now they seemed to be filled with sadness, but without pity.

Then he smiled.

"I really thought you knew," he said, shaking her head.

"Knew what?" she asked, starting to look away.

"Look at me?" he asked, and waited until she did. "Thanks. Now, why? Because you're amazing, because you take my breath away. And because you deserve it."

"Oh, stop it," Donna muttered.

"No!" he said, his eyes suddenly filling with light. "Donna Noble! I'm so attracted to you. I come into your presence and I feel a spark .I was shocked to find someone like you, and you have the power to be my equal. My real equal, Donna. Your hair is stunning, and your smile can illuminate the darkest parts of this old soul."

She preceded to hit him, repeatedly in the arm.

"Why are you hitting me?" he asked, stepping away."I was being honest."

"Did you just flirt with me in puns?!" she asked, not nearly as angry as she was pretending.

"No, Donna," he said, his face serious. "I just confessed my love for you...in puns."

"I think I hate you," she said, crossing her arms.

"I think I have cake," he said. "So...maybe we can work on the cake...and a redo, without the puns."

"Let's start with the cake," she said, nodding.

"Brilliant!" he said. "Come on, I got four rooms of balloons to show you."


	2. Snow White 3

The Doctor ducked the snowball that he was certain had been aimed right at the back of his already damp hair. Sure enough, it landed in the snow in front of him, and he glared back at Donna. Her nose was bright red, and she returned his glare with a fire that he wished could be harnessed to melt the snow around him.

"Stop that, Donna," he said, trying not to lose his last shred of patience with the redhead behind him.

Oh, it wasn't all her. It was all the snow. It was the hours of stomping his way through the growing drifts, hopelessly lost in the middle of this snow storm. The ice skates still hung over their shoulders, though he had considered abandoning them about an hour back, after the snow balls had started.

He knew he ought to just let her take it out on him. He should have known better, he was a genius, as she had pointed out with growing sarcasm. At this point it was pouring out of her at a rate that would add a nice chilly layer to the snow they were trampling through.

"I thought you had a connection to the TARDIS," she said. "Shouldn't you be able to do some brain thing and find her?"

The Doctor stopped short. He took in a slow breath, that burned on the way into his lungs. And that was enough to settle the storm within him just a bit- it had to be worse for Donna, this cold.

He turned to look at her. His fingers ached, despite the fact that she had been insistent that he had worn the gloves that now protected them. Her hair was sticking to her cheeks, even though her hood had been up as often as the wind would allow.

"Some sort of brain thing?" the Doctor asked.

She nodded, tapping her own head with an accusing glare.

"Donna," the Doctor said, trying remain calm. "Do you feel you and I have a connection? That'd I'd do anything to keep you safe, and you'd do the same for me? That we love each other with no conditions?"

"At this moment?" Donna asked, before sneezing pitifully.

"Answer the question, Donna," the Doctor said, digging in his pockets for a tissue, hoping he'd find something useful in the depths.

If nothing else it was a distraction, so he didn't have to look at her and feel guilt instead of anger.

"Yeah," Donna agreed. "What's your point?"

"My point is could you find me in a snowstorm?" he said.

She glared, accepting the tissue he had produced. He sighed, turning and squinting. He'd give anything to see the TARDIS, to stomp his way out of her line of sight and into his warmest clothes.

They needed a break from each other. In a day, or a year, he'd apologize for being a git, and an idiot, and the long list of the things he'd been in the last couple hours. He'd lost his temper, when all this had started, and deserved at least half the snowballs that had been launched at him.

One hit his back, and he spun on her.

"Let's have it out, then?"

Donna blinked.

"Do what?" she asked.

"You wanna fight about this?" he said, crossing his arms. "You wanna be mad at me? Well, I am angry with you. So let's get it out of the way, so we can actually find the TARDIS."

"Have you gone mad?" Donna asked, looking him over.

"Oh, a long time ago," he said, stomping a bit away, and leaning down and starting to build a wall between them to duck behind.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking rightly suspicious.

"I'm tired of having snowballs launched at me," he said, simply. "So we're going to have a good old snowball fight- been solving problems for thousands of years on some planets- and then we can both focus on getting home."

She stood there for a moment, and he was worried that she wasn't going to go for it. And he knew they shouldn't be wasting time out here in the snow. But the truth was, the cold wasn't dangerous, just uncomfortable. And he thought they were finally on the right path for the TARDIS. A few minutes wasn't going to make all that much difference, and maybe they wouldn't have a full on fight when they returned to the TARDIS.

"Fine," she said, dropping to her knees and starting to pile into the snow.

There were planets they couldn't do this. Planets where the snow was alive, and he'd never dream of packing it into a tight little ball. But it wasn't this one, and as she sunk into the snow, he watched her. Her hood blew off once again, her hair dancing in the wind, he realized he wasn't all that angry. He was scared. Scared that he'd never get her back to the TARDIS, that this cold would shift and become something that would steal her away.

And he realized he didn't want to throw these snowballs at anyone but himself for getting them so lost, and for not knowing the weather... but he had proposed the fight. And she was building her arsenal and he continued to stack snowballs to his side.

He glanced at her from time to time. Her cheeks were red, her eyes cast down in concentration. She looked beautiful...she was beautiful.

She stood up quickly, and he snapped his eyes to the sky.

"I'm ready," she said.

He picked up a snowball, and nodded.

"Go!" he shouted, tossing it at her.

She picked up one of hers, throwing it and it hitting his shoulder.

It crumbled on impact, and a smile flashed across her face. He looked down at it, as another hit his chest. A laugh burst up out of him, and he threw another at her. They continued on with half the effort, and the piles of snow that never reached each other was all the evidence he needed that they were going to be fine.

When their small piles were gone, she stepped over the short wall that divided them and he did the same. She slowly made her way over, and wrapped her arms around him. He held her for a moment, the wind picking up around their bodies. The Doctor took in a breath and leaned back, pulling her hood up.

"That's better," he said, gently.

She looked up at him.

"You still owe me somewhere warm," she said, poking his chest.

"I do," he agreed, nodding.

"And something fruity," she said. "Lots of the fruity drinks."

"As many as you like," he said, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"I'm sorry,' she said, when he pulled back.

"Me too,' he said.

"Did I ever tell you about the great snow war on Snow White 3," the Doctor said, pressing a kiss to her head.

"I don't wanna hear about snow right now," Donna said, squeezing his hand.

He took her hand gently, leading her on in the direction they had been heading before they stopped. He waited, hoping she'd take the bait.

Finally she looked at him.

"Snow White 3," she repeated.

"Snow White 3," he said, with a grin. "Biggest snow ball war in history."

"Are you making this up?" Donna asked.

"Maybe," he said, looking ahead. "Wanna hear the story?"

There was another pause, as the snow seemed to fall harder. But he could feel the TARDIS nearing, and with Donna close he didn't feel so cold.

"Always," she finally said.


	3. Hiccup

Donna was settled into a soft booth, leaning back against it. The Doctor was across the table, with a map and two bright blue fizzy drinks separating them. She was watching his hands, one holding the map down, while the other drew an imaginary line to their destination.

He wouldn't admit they were lost, but when he bought the map she was as good as convinced that he had no idea where this theme park they were supposed to visiting was located.

The first hiccup was largely silent, a quick spasm in her chest and she held a hand up to her mouth. The Doctor was too busy to notice, but she reached for the vibrantly colored drink before them to head off another one that could produce a noise.

The drink, was sweet, an odd combinations of fruits she wasn't sure she could name- but she had barely swallowed when the next hiccup hit her.

"EHP!"

The Doctor jerked his head up, concern filling his eyes.

"Alright?" he asked, looking her over.

"Fine, fin-ehp!" she said.

She let out a sigh, sipping at her soda again. The Doctor nodded at her, giving her a grin.

"The drink ought to help," he agreed, and returned his attention to the map. "If we take a right out of here, and continue -ehp!"

Donna blinked, and the Doctor looked just as surprised. He slapped a hand to his chest, looking down at it as he let out another hiccup, as if was betraying him and his Time Lord dignity.

"Ehp!" Donna followed, pushing the cup away.

She wouldn't go so far as to say it was the culprit, but she was getting a nagging suspicion. Either that or they were being affected by some sort of pollen, and it had better not be the sort she had found in the Doctor's story, that she had stumbled across that night.

"Right," the Doctor said, nodding. He had a look of intense concentration on his face, and she realized he was concentrating on not letting another hiccup slip past his lips. He failed. Though, it wasn't as if she was doing any better.

The Doctor stood, reaching deep into one of his coat pockets. He pulled out a handful of small red things that looked like bright buttons, and tossed them onto the table. He let out a huff, and let out the loudest hiccup yet, even as she slapped a hand over her mouth to try to keep hers from turning all the heads in the diner again- and that was a lot of heads.

The Doctor grabbed the carefully spread out map….and shoved it into his pocket before taking her hand. He tugged her along, his brow furrowed.

"Thank you!" she managed to call out, as he tugged her out onto the dusty street.

The town-a strange mix of modern and historic- was passing rapidly as he pulled her along. Neither of them could manage more than a step or two before erupting in a loud noise, that seemed to attract the attention of all those they passed.

"Is this a crime?" Donna asked, feeling as though the attention they were drawing...was not all of the good variety.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Course-ehp- not."

"Oh, no," she said. "We've- ehp- been poisoned haven't we. That's what -ehp- this is?!"

"No, Donna!" he said, huffing and hiccuping. "Something has simply irritated-ehp- oh never mind."

Donna was thankful for the moment, that she was spared his long winded explanation of why they now had the hiccups. The TARDIS came into sight, and she felt a wave of relief. He'd figure this out. She trusted in the Doctor, even when she struggled with her belief in anyone.

He'd get them inside, and to that large med-bay he had and give them something to set them straight. She let out a loud hiccup and was thankful relief was within steps.

The Doctor pushed the door open, and pulled her inside.

To her surprise though, he kept walking. He walked right past the med-bay, and on to the kitchen. Donna blinked.

"Aren't we -ehp- gonna go to the med-bay," she asked, as he released her hand.

"Best thing," he said, before he had to pause. When he could speak again, he nodded. "Is to do this without-ehp- medicine."

She nodded. Donna would have preferred some space cure for what ailed them, but she had to imagine-in this case- the Doctor knew what he has talking about. He pulled out a jar, and it took her a moment to realize it was peanut butter. She only really kept it around for baking, but now he was undoing the lid. He tossed it on the counter, digging in the drawer for a spoon, like a man desperate for the contents of the jar.

He shoved the spoon into the jar, pulling it up covered in a heap of peanut butter. She expected him to shove it right into his mouth, in a hopes to stop the hiccups, but he held it out to her.

"You...first," he managed.

She took the spoon, sliding it into her mouth. It was hard to get down without liquid, but even as he was grabbing a spoon for himself, she had high hopes. She hadn't heard of this remedy, but sometimes those were the ones that worked the best.

She chased it with a gulp of water, but had just swallowed, when she let out a loud and somewhat painful hiccup.

"Damn," she muttered.

The Doctor huffed, tossing the peanut butter jar on the table.

"Let's see," he said, running his hands through his hair. "What else...what else?"

The Doctor paced back and forth, and Donna had a filling growing deep inside, past the hiccups and into the spot reserved to the Doctor's bad plans. Sure enough, a few minutes later, he was holding her legs in the air, with her head on a pillow. Next to her hand, was a glass of water.

"How -ehp- the hell am I supposed to do this!?" she asked, picking up the glass.

He let out an awkward shrug, holding her legs tightly to him. She glared up at him, as well as she could, and attempted to drink from the glass. It poured out, touching her lips, before running out more quickly than she intended. It filled her nose and she jerked, flopping away from the Doctor who released her a moment too late to avoid a foot to the face.

She quickly shook her head, on all fours, trying to get a breath through her nose. The Doctor was holding his cheek, and she slowly climbed to her feet, hiccuping loudly.

"I want space drugs," she gritted out.

The Doctor huffed, lowering his hand.

"I don't want to chance it! " he said, followed by a hiccup. "It could react to something in the drink...I'd rather us get over this on our own."

She glared and looked around the room.

"How?!" she asked.

"I don't know!" he admitted.

She tapped her foot for a moment, and then grabbed his jacket. She pulled him close, pressing her lips to his.

He stood there for a moment, and then pulled her a little closer. Something inside of her lit, while another part faded. As she pulled away, she was relieved to find it was the hiccups that had passed. She would have done that from the beginning, had she known it would work.

"D..Donna," the Doctor said, straightening his tie. He looked rumpled, but she couldn't deny the pleased look on his face. And he was making no noise outside of his breathing.

"Just had to hold our breaths, eh, Spaceman?" she asked, heading out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

Donna sighed, settling herself at the table. She wrapped her hand around the fresh mug of tea, wondering why sleep was evading her tonight. The day hadn't been unpleasant, even by her pre-Doctor standards, but tonight she felt so restless. She couldn't stay inside her room another moment.

She looked across the table, noticing for the first time a notebook with the cover folded off underneath it. It wasn't hers, so that left one other TARDIS occupant that it could belong to.

She shouldn't look. Donna had never known him to write in a notebook at all. There were random notes written on scraps of paper and taped in the oddest of places, but not a full notebook. And it wasn't as if he was an open book himself, so she doubted that he meant for whatever was written on that paper to remain here, when he was nowhere to be found.

Donna shook herself, letting out a tired laugh in the empty room. It probably just scribbled equations, or random bits of information that crossed his mind. She'd simply close it and drop it off at his room.

Donna rose, and walked over, putting her cup down. She reached out, grabbing the notebook, and pulling the cover up. She wasn't going to peek...but she did.

_Donna leaned back against the seat, looking him over. Her eyes were bright, and he knew that she was interested too._

She blinked. She flipped the cover back, and looked over her shoulder. The Doctor was still nowhere to be found, and she settled herself into the closest chair.

This was the Doctor's handwriting, but she couldn't imagine how these could be his words.

_The pollen wasn't the reason he longed to pull her closer, but it was the reason his did. Her hair ran like fire down her back, as he pulled the band loose from it. Donna arched against..._

Donna cleared her throat, and looked over at the door again. It only took a quick skim down the page to realize that she very much should not be reading this. It took a beat longer, to realize that this story was about her.

She flushed, red filling her cheeks. It started as embarrassment, then turned to something closer to anger. How dare her write...this! HE was the one who said they were taking it slow. He had said that kissing now and then was plenty, and now this. This...she didn't even know what to call this that he had written. And what was this pollen that he kept going on about? She briefly wondered if this was a real thing, as she heard footsteps rushing down the hall. The Doctor skidded into the room, giving her smile.

"Oh! Donna, you're up," he said. "How brilliant, I mean...I'm sorry you aren't sleeping. I was just looking for a notebook, you know me, always scribbling away at..oh..."

He trailed off as she held the open notebook into the air. The Doctor did something she had never seen-he blushed. He took a step back, lifting his hands into the air.

"Listen," he stared, before opening and closing his mouth for a few moments, but no explanation found its way to her.

"You wrote fiction about us?!" she shouted. "You wrote fiction about us! Dirty fiction."

Interesting fiction.

"I.." the Doctor said. "Donna, please, calm down. We can talk about this."

Donna flipped the page, and noted the word pollen again at the top.

"'The pollen filled his head with a delightful fog'," she shouted. "'And he pressed his lips to Donna's!' What the hell is the pollen you keep writing about?! Is this real, Doctor? Is it?!

"Well," he said, still holding up his hands. Aside from the flush in his cheeks, he was annoyingly calm. "There are some pollens that would have a psy-"

"I don't want an answer!" Donna said. "Didn't you say wanted to take it slow?!"

The Doctor stared at her, and then nodded. "I did."

"Then why did you write this?!" she asked, trying to pretend she wasn't reading the current page in small increments as she glanced at the evidence. He could hardly blame her after all, the small, tight writing drew her in and she had to fight to look back at the Doctor once more.

"Because I said slow, Donna," he said. "Because you agreed. Because I want more, every moment of every day, but I will never ask more of you then you are willing to give."

"Oh," Donna said, lowering the notebook.

She looked him over, and then slowly settled back into the chair thinking. There was a good chance, that most of what she felt wasn't anger. It wasn't the only thing boiling beneath the surface. She was very interested in what the fiction version of her and him were doing, and how she could possibly make it reality.

"Donna," he said, stepping closer. "Can I have the notebook?"

She sighed, and held it out to him.

"Is this the only one?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Of...course it is," the Doctor said, nodding. "Why wouldn't it be? Why...did you...see more?"

Donna grinned up at him.

"How long have you been doing this then?" she asked. "And do all your stories require a room without gravity."

"Nooo," the Doctor said, blushing again. "Just this one..."

She nodded, and moved closer to him.

"Doctor?" she asked, as he looked her over.

"Yes, Donna?" he responded.

"Do you have...one of those rooms?" she asked.

The Doctor jerked his head up, and smiled at once.

"I do," he said, nodding and flipping a few pages in.


	5. Chapter 5

The Doctor carefully eyed the red-head across the small wooden table. She was calm-too calm? It was hard to say right now. Or ever. He had a hard time getting a read on her, which had earned him plenty of slaps...but now if he was wrong, it would cost him dearly.

"Well?" Donna asked, leaning back, still annoyingly clothed. Her socks were on the floor, her pile near his, only much, much smaller. "Are you going to take the rest of the night, Spaceman?"

She leaned over, picking up the short glass, and sipping the dark contents. He blamed the liquid. It was making her too hard to figure out, perfecting that neutral face she had been wearing since they had settled into their chairs. He'd known how to play poker for years, longer than she had been alive...and admitting she might be better at it than him, was not something he was going to do willingly.

"I just want to be sure," he said, glancing at his hand again. It was as good as it was ever going to get.

She couldn't beat him...he was fairly certain. His mind scrambled to remember cards, but the cold air touching his chest and legs kept him distracted enough that all he could see were the cards in his current hand.

She raised her eyebrows, reaching one hand up, and tucking the hair behind her ear. Well, that was good, it had been distracting him, rubbing against her cheek whenever she shifted in her chair impatiently. She'd been doing that a lot in the last few minutes, and she did it now as if to spite him.

And, okay, he had been holding onto this last hand for at least ten minutes.

He'd saved worlds in ten minutes, hell even a galaxy in ten minutes, but he wasn't laying anything down until she made him. Or never, that worked for him as well.

There was no way he was going to shed the last piece of his clothing- a so not funny pair of boxers with little unicorns on them- and admit defeat.

"Well?" she asked. "Should I go on to bed? Pick this up next century."

He let out a breath, and carefully spread the cards out, then drew in air and held it. Maybe something would explode. That'd do nicely. He'd pay for an alien invasion. Good money too, any amount they asked.

He waited, but his hopes were rapidly dashed when the TARDIS remained silent, the universe whole. He could almost see the grin of the TARDIS around him, and decided that maybe her fondness of Donna had become too great.

Of course...outside of this moment, he was quite fond as well.

She spread her cards out, and he stared.

"No!' he said, holding his hands up. "There is no way you're that good. You must be cheating, hiding aces up those sleeves of yours. I knew they were too loose. Go on, shake them."

A dangerous look passed over her features, and he swallowed hard, gulping back the last of his whiskey. He wasn't drunk, but that didn't mean he couldn't wish he was...a bit.

"Are you suggesting that I had to resort to cheating to beat you," she said, sliding her chair back. "You skinny-"

"No!" the Doctor said again, shaking his head. It was clearly time for a new direction. "Listen, Donna. Friends don't see friends naked. I think it's in the handbook. Like...right at the top, page one. So, really, I should probably just keep these on"

"Friends should probably have played better hands," she said, leaning back.

The storm in her features had already burned out, and the calm had returned. She looked as uninterested at the possibility of him removing his last piece of clothing as she had when he had taken off his socks.

It was slightly offensive.

"Look," she said, watching him and then motioning broadly with her hand. She wasn't drunk either, but she was getting there. He'd watch her, before she stumbled over the edge. But not yet, he had more pressing matters. "I don't like this anymore th-"

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked quickly.

She laughed, and finished off her glass.

"You lost," she said, pointing. "Pay up."

He grumbled, standing up. Fingers over his waistband, he tried desperately to think of anything that might spare him. It wasn't about being ashamed...but this was Donna. And this was him. And this was something he didn't understand, but he knew he was embarrassed and that was new.

"Fine," he finally said. "You win."

He took a breath, starting to lower his eyelids and his clothing, when he noticed the color drain from her face. She took in a few slow breaths and laid her hands on the table.

"Donna?!" he asked, concern moving quickly to replace everything else. "Donna, what is it? Talk to me."

She swallowed, and looked up at him.

He rounded the table, squatting down by her side to look her over.

"I don't feel so well," she said, then let out a small sniff.

He looked over at the table, and then felt a sharp stab of guilt. She'd had more than he realized, probably more than she realized. And while the whiskey might have taken a while to hit, it hit hard. He should have known better..he did know better, but...he'd been having fun. She'd been having fun...he was certain of it.

"Are you going to vomit?" he asked, pushing the hair away from her face.

"No," she said, shaking her head, then pausing. "Yes."

He moved quickly, but she just kept up the same slow breathing until she finally looked up at him.

"Let's get you to bed," he said, pulling her up.

"It was only a game," she said, quickly.

He sighed, and wrapped an arm around her.

"I meant to sleep," he said, leading her off down the hall.

"I know," she said, nodding against his shoulder. "Shame."

He blinked, and looked over her. Deciding she was too far gone to realize what she was saying, he left it, and set about tucking her into bed. As he turned off the lights, he decided he quite liked embarrassed. And while he didn't like losing, he didn't mind if she was involved.

And there was always next time.


	6. Chapter 6

Donna was alerted to the presence of another in her room, by the soft bounce on her bed, followed by a warm body snuggling up as closely to her as it could manage and still be another person entirely. She let out a small sigh of annoyance, very certain that she couldn't have been in bed more than a few hours. The Doctor had declined joining her for rest, mumbling something about a giant laser something-honestly she was fairly sure he just told things like that so she never caught on to some odd hobby that he had.

Either way, she had been sleeping. And now, she was not.

"Doctor," she grumbled, reaching a hand out and pushing softly at his shoulder. "Go away. I'm sleeping."

The only response this seemed to generate was a nuzzle into her hand and an odd, fairly familiar rumbling noise deep inside his chest. She shifted now, opening up her eyes fully. It was too dark to see him, but he had returned to cuddling up against her. It was tempting to settle back into sleep, return to what she had to admit was a pleasant dream, but he was acting weird- well weird even for him.

Reaching out, Donna flipped on the lamp, and looked down. She let out a breath of relief, letting her imagination run wild for a moment longer than it should have. She had been expecting the Doctor with extra arms, or not the Doctor at all, but some alien creature who had a thing for cuddling up to humans while they slept. She wouldn't put it past him, on either account.

Still, he was all Time Lordy like normal. Brown hair sticking up like he didn't own anything to keep it down, eyes watching her, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, go on," She muttered "Just lay down then, I'm going to back to sleep."

She did intend to do just that, honestly, but he had other plans in mind. He moved to her, shifting into her lap, and attempting to curl up there.

She wanted to slap him, right then. Temptation passed quickly though, as he began to run his tongue down his arm, and over his fingers. She knew he had a thing for licking, but this was not the normal sort he engaged in.

"Doctor," she tried again, touching his arm. The rumble returned to his chest, and she was struck with just what it was that it reminded her of. "You're not a bloody cat, stop."

He looked up at her for a moment, then returned to leaving a trail of wet down his arm. Well, it was worth a try and the hope that this was just an awful joke he was playing on her. Glancing at the clock, she confirmed that it was way too early to be dealing with whatever mess he had gotten himself into, but knew that once again the responsibility fell to her.

"Off," she muttered, pushing until he finally flopped off her lap and stretched out. Standing up, Donna shoved her feet into her slippers, and yanked her dressing gown over her arms and tied it quickly. "Alright, then, you. Let's get this figured out."

The Doctor looked at her, and then hopped off the bed, and headed out of the room. Donna hurried after, catching him trying to eat something from the floor in the hall.

"Oi!" she said, hurrying over. "Stop that! Bad...Doctor?"

She leaned over, while he continued to move down the hall again, and picked up a bit of lint. Shaking her head, and shoving it into the pocket of her gown, she hurried after.

"Are you taking me to where it happened?" Donna asked. "Are you trying to tell me something...I swear I feel like I'm talking to Lassie here...never forgiving you for this, Doctor. Do you hear me?"

For his part in the conversation, the Doctor let out a meowing noise, and stopped to rub his face against a door frame. Donna looked down at him, and he turned his eyes up to meet hers with expectation.

"I'm not petting you, if that's what you're after," she said, before reaching down and ruffling his hair.

So much for resolve.

He let out a happy purring noise, and she shuffled to the door and opened it. It was a lab of some sort, normal enough looking for what she knew of labs. However, there was a thick green goo leaking out of a container and onto the floor slowly. She could see green foot prints leading away from it and glanced at the Doctor's feet as he rubbed up against her legs.

Sure enough, they were stained a lime green, and she took a step away from both him and the goo.

"No, no," she said. "Don't go getting any of that on me, probably some alien thing that will have me thinking I am a goat or something. We need to get you cleaned up...maybe washing it off will help..."

This is the sort of situation that called for the Doctor, but he was currently attempting to scratch his ear with his foot and for a moment she regretted not having a camera with her.

"Meow," the Doctor said to her.

"Right," Donna said, heading out. She set her mind to drawing him a bath. She had no idea if it would actually work, or if it was something that he would ever come back from, but she had no other ideas, and sometimes simple was the best. "This way."

He followed her out, slowly, rubbing against things from time to time. She kept moving, opening up the bathroom door and moving in. She squatted down, digging out a cloth. She felt her arm being pushed up, and looked over to see a lock of hair peeking out as he tried to force himself into her lap.

She huffed, trying to push him off.

"Knock it off," she said, huffing. He continued to try to climb up her, until she reached out and turned the nozzle to get the water going. With a panicked noise, he scrambled away from her, knees sliding across the slick floor.

She couldn't help the laugh that burst free before she could contain it.

"Doctor," she said, firmly, when she managed to stop smiling. "You have to wash up. I have to see if it helps."

He was backed into the corner, and she thought somehow he had actually managed to get his hairs to stick up on their end.

Huffing she added bubbles to the water, and walked over, shutting the door. His eyes darted to the now closed escape route, and then back to her.

"You're taking a bath," she said, pointing. Reaching out, she grabbed his shirt, and struggled to get it pulled over his head. "Forget it," she mumbled, slowly pulling him over to the water.

"MEEEEEEEOW," he protested as she worked on shoving his body up and over the side.

"You could make this easier," she said, feeling herself beginning to break a sweat with the effort.

"MEEEEEEOW," came the reply from the Doctor.

"Don't you take that tone with me," she said, giving a large shove and feeling his body plop over and water splash out all over the floor and her.

"MEEEEEEEEOW," he wailed, sloshing around and showering more of the water over the bathroom before he coughed. After a moment, he sat up, somehow seeming to be less soaked than Donna was.

She glared at him, while he pushed his wet hair away from his face.

"Will an apology right now help anything?" he asked after a moment.

"Not a chance," she said, growling and climbing to her feet. "I'm going back to bed."

"Right, I'll just...finish up here," he said, as she stomped/sloshed out of the room.

THE NEXT DAY

Donna sat on the couch in the library, turning the page on her book. The Doctor was still fine this morning, a fact she was thankful for even if she had refused to speak to him at all. The quiet was nice, and she reached out for her tea, but felt something furry instead. Yelping, Donna yanked her hand back, and moved her book to look. The Doctor was on all fours, grinning at her.

"Not funny," she said, grumbling.

"Look, Donna," he said, climbing to his feet, and trying not to smile. "I brought you food. And tea, you can't be mad at tea?"

She glared at him, and then leaned forward to look the tray over.

"Meow," the Doctor whispered, and Donna tossed the book down as he smartly took off running.

"But tea, Donna!" he called over his shoulder. "You can't be mad at tea!"


	7. Chapter 7

Honey.

Well, it smelled like honey anyway. And it sure felt like honey, thick and dribbling slowly down her skin. The comparison had ended there, however. Donna had been too afraid to taste it. She just knew the moment she worked up the courage to dart her tongue out over her lips, the Doctor would suddenly recall all the ways that alien honey might kill her.

Or space drug her, anyway.

She'd read things.

And, honestly, she'd had enough surprises for one day. Donna kept her eyes forward, doing her best to ignore the Doctor as they shuffled through 'the fastest way back to the TARDIS'. Their path took them directly through a field, which seemed to carry on forever into the distance.

Another stalk of wheat - it's not wheat, Donna, it's fill-in-the-blank-alien-vegetation - slipped up the leg of her trousers. She sighed, shook her pant leg, and watched it wilt its way out. She glanced at the Doctor's back, but he kept moving forward. The first few times it had happened, he'd thrown a worried look over his shoulder before realizing the threat had only been the handsy - stalky- wheat.

Glaring at his back, she watched him push a stalk away from his fingers, before she started after him again.

Just a short walk, he'd said. They won't hurt you, he'd said.

"I can actually hear you, Donna."

She looked up, watched as a one slithered up his arm, cutting a path through the honey.

"Wasn't trying to hide it, Martian," she said, stomping by him.

He let her pass, the fields dividing around them. Likely, the short cut was actually faster than the long path they'd taken there. Only then she'd not been coated and smelling sickly sweet. Back this morning, when they still had the whole day ahead of them, with only waterfalls and green fields in every direction.

It had been a nice hour or so. Now her feet slipped inside her shoes, and her clothes weighed at least double what they had when she'd stepped out of the TARDIS. And while she didn't exactly blame the Doctor - she'd been the one to slide into the honey bog, after all - the anger did keep the embarrassment at bay.

And they _were_ on the wrong planet. Or in the wrong century. He hadn't been able to decide which before she'd glared him into silence.

She felt an all too familiar tickle at her elbow, and brushed it back as the Doctor approached.

He cleared his throat. His clothes stuck to his skin, his normally wild hair pressed heavily against his head. He looked equal parts remorseful and uncomfortable and her resolve wavered.

"I think they must be attracted to the honey," he said, tapping gently at a stalk near his hand.

"Oh, that's a relief," Donna said, rolling her eyes. "I thought it was us."

The Doctor muttered something she didn't quite catch before he looked up at her again.

She watched as he gently pulled a stalk out from under his shirt, and another slid in to replace it. Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit her. She laughed. All the anger faded.

"Alien honey," she said, drawing in a breath. "What's next?Bees?"

He jerked his head up to look at her, and she saw his mouth twitch. In another moment, as Donna pushed a stalk away from her shoulder, the Doctor started laughing too.

Everything went back to normal. Well, normal for them.

The good and bad of space travel, well, Earth alone could never compare. And they both knew it.

Even coated in honey, with too much field separating them from the closest shower, Donna wouldn't trade this moment for anything.

It felt good to know the Doctor wouldn't either.

"The TARDIS awaits," he said, holding out his hand. When she slipped hers into his, he grinned. "I think I remember where the big shower is. We'll use the good soap, Donna. The one you like."

She rolled her eyes, walked along with him, as they used their free hands to keep the not-wheat away.


End file.
